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Step by Step/Issue 11
This is Issue #11 '''of Step by Step. This is the fifth issue of '''Volume Two. Through The Walls “All better.” Hector remained as stiffened as a wall. He breathed out, barely showing an ounce of remorse. He knew what he had done. And he would have done the same thing had he the chance to. He tipped his hand to the National Guards. “Grab his body.” The man in the flannel shirt lifted up a finger. At Hector. “You heartless shit.” The man stepped in front of Blake's body. A pool of blood had begun to surround it. “He killed Blake.” The man kept pointing. “And he's a damn cop; he's supposed to protect us!” “And I did my job,” Hector responded in an icy tone. “A great job if anything.” He ushered a hand to the awkward leg that Blake had limped on. Hector darted his eyes to the nurse who had been tending Blake. “He was bitten by one of them?” In hesitation, the nurse nodded. She was afraid of telling the officer no. Frankly, she had no idea if being bitten was relevant. “Observant.” Hector spun to face the stunned refugees. “These things bite. Transfer the disease through that. Haven't any of you noticed?” Hector paused, frowning. “We've been here for what? More than a month? To be honest, this government that's been supposedly funding us has kept a little fact secret from us.” The man in the flannel shirt remained silent. Deep in his thoughts, he was oblivious to the crazies making their hungry way to the cafeteria's front doors. “Tell us then.” The man lowered his hand. “Tell us, you asswipe.” Hector winced as thunder blazed once again. “The disease or whatever is extremely contagious. You get any sort of contact and you're good as dead. A dead man walking he was.” Hector looked down at Blake. “Shot him in the head to keep him from turning.” The man smirked. “You're a big bowl of bull shit, aren't ya?” As fast as lightning could strike again, the man picked up a cot and spun around. He bashed the metal frame against the lock and in one blow it cracked open a breath of concealed, rusted air. “If y'all wanna go, then let's go!” The refugees shifted in their grouping. None had the slightest urge to leave the safety bonded together by the cafeteria. They could only muster up hesitation. The man passed his eyes upon Blake's body. He looked up to the people, the police officers, and the exhausted soldiers. “Bunch of pussies...” He swung open the door and ripped through the cafeteria entrance. Not even Hector could have saved him at that moment. Four hands, no six, clutched the man's flannel shirt and pulled him to teeth. Blood sprayed from his neck as the three crazies closed in over the man's fear-stricken body. Struggling to keep them away, his eyes rolled over. Cold, dead fingers scurried across his face as he was pulled out from his shoes. One of the crazies, a weathered man of middle age, dragged his teeth across the man's biceps. Covered the muscle with his predatory teeth. And then yanked out a blubbery portion from it. This time, the crowd kept their screams to a maximum. Beyond that to be exact. They raced for their remaining loved ones while the soldiers raised their assault rifles. But they were too late. The crazies had toppled over the man and were tearing the flesh from his neck. The Hispanic officer that stood by the window barely moved. Hector Pacino remained there with bewildered eyes. Fingers clenched to his sheathed handgun. Adrenaline exploded throughout him and his vision narrowed. Hector wasted no time yanking the handgun free. He brought the Glock up and took individual steps towards the man being devoured. Before the soldiers and police officers could act, Hector halted them with a flick of his hand. Standing in front of the two dead men who had been annoying the hell out of him a minute before, he caught a whiff of the diseased people. One of them, a woman wearing leftover rags, gazed up at Hector. The woman still had sinewy flesh dangling from her blistery and swollen lips. Her eyes gave Hector a belief, for just a moment, that the woman was okay. But her eyes were as empty as glass. She hadn't even expected it when Hector gathered up his pistol on her and pulled the trigger. Her head jerked back like a splintered old twig. Those empty eyes. They remained startled by the flash of gunfire. In succession, two sprays of gunshots came from behind a smiling Hector. The two other crazies, both men, fell beside their deceased companion. “See?” Hector pointed the barrel of his pistol to the man in the flannel shirt. “I god damn told you all." The man had started to reawaken. This time with much less English and much more moaning. His first gasp for air rattled out but was short-lived. "Now you get to quote me." Another bullet rang out. Hector fumbled with the handgun. A splash of blood had smacked his face and blinded his eyes. He felt the gunfire vibrate in the cafeteria. Through the walls where there were more of the bastards. He cracked open his right eye to the body of the man. In a front close up, he could figure out who the man was. Hector gulped. It was Mr. Morrison. He had known him from before. A pictorial thought threatened to pile into Hector's mind. And it did. Hector settled the gun by his thigh. Tensing his imprint on it, the thought crossed his eyes. Morrison. Smiling and talking with the teachers at the school as the military had begun its first of attendance at the school. He had shot down a teacher. And Blake. Sweat thickened on Hector's red forehead. He turned towards the crowd. They were frightened, all gathered up in a clump. Staring at Hector. Some past him and into the hallway the sprouted out into several passageways. Nasty halls filled with amplifying growls. The National Guard were no different. For the few that had taken up their arms and blasted down the other two crazies, the others were stuck in a mindless trance. None of them moved as the crescendo of moaning spiked. The tiny, compact amount of police officers did little to motivate Hector's hope. The officers in their blue stood with integrity and readiness. Hector smiled. He wiped the sweat and bloody substance from his face. He let his silky hair drop. “We're going in.” “For what?” A female soldier in the array called out. She wasn't willing to bring up the people that Hector had just shot dead. “You want to know why?” Hector rotated. He watched the first of the ranks of undead crazies stomp across the tiled floor. “I want these diseased piles of stacked shit blown away.” A man in tattered brown clothing came first. Snarling, scrunching up his nose. Hector paid no effort as he raised the arm with the handgun. The man's eyes went black. His face snapped down the center as the bullet cartridge tore off a section of blistered face and shattered the skull. He groaned, wailing whilst throwing up arms to maintain balance. That was until, Hector popped out a second shot and threw the crazie to the floor. Hector himself jumped up in surprise. He watched the body go limp and reveal an alignment of barking and staggering crazies. “We push through,” He stammered and turned around. “Clear the halls.” “Hector, stop.” Amanda stood by the others in her police unit. She had little confidence in her. Not what happened earlier with Marvin. She fought back the thoughts. No ambition in her leading officer. The one who had gunned down a man in cold blood. “This is pointless!” She threw up her hands in anger. “You're going to get us all killed.. Those that went into the gymnasium will come.” Hector crossed her arms. “They're stuck in there, Amanda." “What about them?” Alexander had stood up from his cot. He hadn't the best of moods. He walked towards Hector, stiffening his chest even though he was half of Hector's size. hat did not stop him from staring down the police sergeant. “You can't be thinking of abandoning them.” “I never said that.” Hector rustled his sleek, black hair and cropped it back. He had damn fine hair and he knew it. But the brain matter that had landed on it did no good to him. “If we find any civilians, dead or alive, you do not hesitate.” Hector bit on his lip. He forwarded a hand to the halls, waving at the armed forces being him. “Let's go!” On cue, he marched out. Hector brought up the handgun and felt a whoosh of air arise. The gun boomed two shots into the horde of undead. And he watched two of the crazies go down. The others gnashed their teeth. Not showing any emotion to hold them back. Only determination. The crazies continued. The hallway had become a pileup of dead carcasses. Flies buzzed in the humid, disgusting air. Hector choked when he took his first breath in the hallway. His eyes turned wet from the rancid smell. Hector centered the handgun on another crazie. But it wasn't someone he was expecting. Bile rose in his throat. His intentions down the drain. “No—“ Hector instantly swung around backwards. The door was shut on him. “No!" A vein in Hector's neck bulged. “You damn—!” He bawled his fists and let them loose on the door. He hadn't even noticed the brown haired technician locking the door back into place. Just on time, Hector heard the padlock click into position from the inside. “Assholes!” His fingers jolted with pain. He could barely keep a grip on the Glock pistol after a minute of profusely slamming his fists on the door. They didn't care for him. “I don't care!” He dropped his back onto the door. Had no choice but to look up. Inside the assembly of undead, there was a child. No more than five. Hector blinked twice. He couldn't be seeing a kid. A little boy. A student with a wrecked future. There staring blindly back with gray eyes fixed on Hector. Hector wept scornfully. His head rose to look up at the dull, inactive lights above him. The lights that had dimmed out just like his soul. Hector didn't object. Looking back down at the boy, he had to see the skinless neck the boy had. And the gutted belly that so gracefully displayed itself to the officer. ---- The thunder boomed outside as rain pounded the expanse of the city. The turbulent winds shifted branches in the misty, icy weather. To those who were unfortunate to be outside, they were blasted with biting winds that drooped tree branches and sent people driving like blind men. Jacob was trying to control his steering when his car rammed into the array of military vehicles. Ones that were surrounded by the dead. Snapping mandibles brushed up on every window of the Chevy as it groaned across the road. “What the hell are these people?” He couldn't muster up another thought as the next moment a teeth baring woman slammed onto his windshield. “Holy sh—!” “Get past them!” Sarah shouted. She had analyzed the parking lot hundreds of times over from taking Kerry to Summercreek a year before. A year before patient zero. She shuddered and clenched her sides from the skin crawling chills that jolted her spine. Damn rain. “We can follow through here and into the school.” “And then what?” Jacob hissed. He squinted at the layer of glass in front of him. Rainwater topped the foggy glass and pounded the ghoulish face of the woman who landed on the hood of the Chevy. “Hold on, Sarah!” He swerved the car through the pale mist like a blind man shooting a bow and arrow. “Jacob, stop!” Sarah pointed to the right. She always had better eyesight then him. Never once wore glasses. “You're driving into these people!” Jacob continued with his foot digging into the pedal. “I know what I'm doing, Sarah.” Sarah rose a brow. “We're in a damn parking lot. Fog all around us.” She scoffed. “The place is abandoned.” Kerry was here. Jacob knew it. “We can find Kerry.” Jacob lingered his eyes over to the vast mist which enraged him. “And then Ethan...” “What?” She looked back at her husband in wary shock. She rewinded what he said many times in that short instance of peace. Ethan. Sarah turned to her husband, eyes as wide as double zeros. “Jac—“ The front tires of the Chevy groaned as they rammed into something. Something hard. Jacob and Sarah both gasped as they were simultaneously ripped out from their seats. The soaking wet car roared its last breath of exhaust and hummed a wailing noise until the engine began gasping. A puff of smoke left the hood of the dented car and trailed into the wispy entrails of the consuming fog. The glass had shattered and sprinkled its remnants on the hood. The engine droned on for a handful of seconds before it became top petite a sound that the moans of the dead took over. The dead reached into the holes in the windshield. Rotting hands flustered into the vehicle and their moans echoed in the ears of Jacob. “Mother...” Jacob could barely open his eyes. Flashes of red and whites engulfed his vision. His neck felt like an elephant had planted itself on it. With weary eyes, he glanced to his side. Sarah. “No, no!” He grabbed a hold of his wife who was bleeding from the right temple. Tears welled in Jacob's eyes. He cradled his wife's motionless body. Wiped strands of brown hair from her bloodied face. So beautiful. Her face was mangled with broken skin and shards of glass. “Sarah, please.” Jacob muttered, letting her head drop to his elbows. He pulled away from the restless hands of the dead that reached so ever closely to the two. “You sons of bitches!” Jacob shouted and spit curses at the dead as they covered all sides of the car. The Chevy trembled from side to side. Stuck in the lifeless vehicle, all Jacob could do was keep his eyes centered on his wife. Sarah. “Please, Sarah.” A tear skimmed down his cold cheek. Then more followed. With his cheeks dampened and anger accumulating in his chest, Jacob wrapped a hand around the forearm of one of the dead. He growled at the crazie. The crazie tried to growl back. Tried to reel in its body as Jacob tugged the arm inside the car. Instead, Jacob yanked the slithery arm inside until he saw the crazed face of a man. Not even a day older than twenty, it was a soldier. The soldier snarled and flared his purple nostrils. Jacob took a moment to peer into the soldier's eyes. Eyes that were coated with the grayness of the storm clouds above. Jacob didn't hesitate. He grabbed the closest and sharpest edge of glass and dropped it into the soldier's scalp. The soldier's eyes glistened with rage. But before it could blast a stench of exhale into Jacob's face, his head slumped down and left Jacob there. Breathing madly. Staring at the soldier's dead body. Just as a hand found the coldness of Jacob's neck and reached in... Jacob jerked the hand off as it met up with his skin. He took in the coldness of the touch. It made the dropping temperature outside feel like a heat wave. He shuddered. Jacob snatched up the piece of bent glass and slashed it at what had grabbed him. He let go of the shard once he hit something. And he did. Jacob didn't look to see the mangled face of the man he had put the broken glass piece into. Sighing a fluctuating breath, he rested Sarah's head on his lap. “''Please...''” Issues Category:Step by Step Category:Category:Step by Step Issues Category:Issues